Malchus drank a cup of wine and took a mouthful of bread; but he was too faint and exhausted at present to eat more.  He had supported well the terrible strain for the last forty-eight hours, and as he had run through the forest he had not noticed how it had told upon him; but now that he was safe among his friends he felt as weak as a child.  For a time he lay upon the lion skin on which he had thrown himself upon entering the tent, unable to reply to his comrades’ questions.  Then, as the cordial began to take effect, he roused himself and forced himself to eat more.  After that he told his friends what had happened.

“You have indeed had an escape, Malchus; but how was it you did not take to the trees at once?”

“I did not think of it,” Malchus said, “nor, I suppose, did the others.  Halcon was our leader, and we did as he told us.  He thought the fires would keep them off.  Who could have thought the beasts would have ventured to attack us!”

“I have always heard they were terrible,” one of the others said; “but I should have thought that three armed men would have been a match for any number of them.”

“It would have been as much as thirty could have done to withstand them,” Malchus replied; “they did not seem to care for their lives, but sought only to slay.  There were hundreds and hundreds of them.  I would rather march alone to the assault of a walled city than face those terrible beasts.”

In the morning the whole party started for the scene of the encounter.

Malchus had some difficulty in discovering it; but at last, after searching a long time he came upon it.

The ground beneath the tree was everywhere trampled and torn by the wolves in their struggles, and was spotted with patches of dry blood.  The helmets, shields and arms of Halcon and Chalcus lay there, but not a remnant of their bones remained, and a few fragments of skin and some closely gnawed skulls alone testified to the wolves which had fallen in the encounter.  The arms were gathered up, and the party returned to their camp, and the next day started for Carthagena for, after that experience, none cared for any further hunting.

It was some weeks before Malchus completely recovered from the effects of the strain he had undergone.  His nights were disturbed and restless.  He would constantly start from his couch, thinking that he heard the howl of the wolves, and any sudden noise made him start and turn pale.  Seeing how shaken his young kinsmen was, and what he had passed through, Hannibal sent him several times in ships which were going across to Africa for stores.  He did not venture to send him to Carthage; for although his influence with the commissioners had been sufficient to annul the order of the council for the sending of Malchus as a prisoner there, it was probable that were he to return he would be seized and put to death —­ not for the supposed crime he had committed, but to gratify the hatred of Hanno against himself and his adherents.